Lavender and Red Hair
by Avatar Zuki
Summary: While investigating the murder of a businessman, Jane and Lisbon get to know a quite interesting suspect. It's my first effort, sorry for any grammar mistakes; english isn't my mother tongue. Please Review!


"Maria Jones, did you kill Fernanda's husband?"  
The ambiance in the interrogation room was the least bit comfortable for Lisbon. She had been dealing with this suspect, a 28 year old really obsecure woman, for three days. Three whole days and not a single word came out from her mouth. She just kept playing with her red hair, twinkling her blue cobalt eyes.  
Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon couldn't make out who this girl was. A mentally retarded girl dumbfounded by her exceptional beauty or an woman with such excessive intelligence that had psychological problems, something like Jane? Ah, and there was the other alternative; simply a good actress.  
"She didn't do it," Jane declared.  
"Now you completely enlightened the case."  
A cause for the awkward ambiance of the room was Jane too. She couldn't realise why, but she was pretty irritated by his behaviour; maybe the way he gazed at the woman's eyes, but why should that be a problem for her? "Maybe I just don't think the girl is right for him," she thought.  
"Maria, you can speak to us," he continued, sitting closer to her. "Please, just tell us what happened." He held her hand. "I know you saw it."  
Lisbon started itching her chin. The woman sighed, and finally decided to speak. "It wasn't me, I swear," she began. "It was that damn bastard... Her lover..."  
"She had a LOVER?"  
"Yes, I know you didn't know it, how could you?" she said nostalgically. "You can't know his name, you haven't even seen him."  
"He commited suicide after the murder," Jane realised smiling.  
"Jane, we would have found a body," Lisbon said.  
"He did it at his place," Maria continued. "He lives in 765 D. Avenue."  
"Why did he kill his lover?" Lisbon questionned.  
"Because he was being blackmailed," she declared. "I don't know by whom, but he was being blackmailed. And he had to kill his lover, so that he could get something precious of him, or something like that, I'm not sure. But he loved her, she was the only person he had on earth, he couldn't live without her."  
Lisbon took some notes. "Thank you very much, ms Jones." She opened the door and she left.  
Jane stayed here. Staring at the woman. The woman stayed here. Staring at Jane.  
"Please don't do this," she said to him.  
"Do what?" he sighed.  
"Reading me." She smiled.  
Silence.  
"What are you doing tonight?" she asked, coming closer to him and smiling.  
He wasn't taken by the least bit of surprise. He was sure this was going to happen. "Tiding up my sock's closet."  
She was moving so erotically that his temperature began rising. "Maybe you could meet me in a bar I know..."  
"Oh, really, Maria, I don't know..."  
"Shut up, you shy boy," she whispered in his ear. "Meet me at Beach Hotel Bar at ten o' clock."  
She stood up from her chair, she opened the door and left.

Jane felt like he was hypnotised.

Suddenly, he felt a pinch in his nose. "Ouch," he yelled.  
"You deserve it," Lisbon said.  
"Why, what did I do?" he said with a fake sadness.  
His partner seemed like she couldn't find words. "Nothing."  
Jane gazed around. "What time is it?"  
"8:50. Look, we have to..."  
He remembered Maria. "Whoops, I have to go," he cried, running happily the aisles of CBI.  
"Jane!" Lisbon sighed.  
He had left.  
She didn't know why, but she could really use some of Rigsby's nachos in the fridge at that moment.

"Do you like Marguerita?" Maria asked.  
They were at a large hotel bar, with blue lights, immense television screens for football lovers -it was the championship finale- and lots of drinks. There was also a pool outside the bar -it seemed like Maria really wanted to visit it, but if she decided to do it, she would definitely do it alone.  
"I don't know anyone named Marguerita..." Jane said, confused.  
"I mean the drink," she laughed. Her smile was magic.  
They spent their evening on idle chatter. About news, weather, art, movies, crimes, love... The only thing they didn't talk about was the past; they both felt like something forbade it.  
It was eleven thirty when his hand went through Maria's hair. It was so soft... and it smelled like a flower...It smelled like Lavender.  
Suddenly, he removed his hand. "Eh... I... I'm sorry," he said timidly. "I... I didn't..."  
"It's ok, Patrick," she giggled. "If you don't mind, I would really love to examine your hair as well."  
"I... I didn't..."  
Her hand went through his hair. He couldn't realise why his heart was beating so loudly; something in this woman made his beat rise... but he couldn't distinguish the reason of this rising...  
"We should probably leave." she declared.  
"Huh?" Jane said abstractly.  
"I just got bored from this place. Let's go for a walk, shall we?" she smiled.  
"Eh... sure." He held her hand and they left.

Maybe it just was "these days". Teresa Lisbon couldn't explain her situation in another way; excessive hunger, bad mood, insomnia. And the empty nachos taper of Rigsby. Well, she definitely had to find a way to explain THIS.  
She was just browsing the net on a CBI computer; she was too tired to go home. Maybe Jane wouldn't sleep in his couch that night. Maybe she could comfort herself on it.  
A tear slided through her cheek. Yes, definitely "these days". She lied her head on the keyboard. Her eyes were closing... when suddenly, she heard a sound from her computer.  
The sound of a new mail being received.  
She read it.  
"Oh my god," she yelled in despair, getting up from her chair, "Oh my god!"

"Ain't the stars amazing?" she whispered.  
Jane wasn't looking at the stars. He was looking at her. He was trying to understand what was the catch behind her perfection.  
"Yes, they are..."  
The man began gazing at the sky. There weren't much lights on outside; that provided them with a flawless sky. He distinguished some stars shaping a triangle; it was glorious. They remained silent as they walked by a park, entering the "slums" of the city. He was really confused. He couldn't understand what he felt; love or fear? Terror or passion?  
As they were traversing a boulevard full of old and abandoned warehouses, Maria stopped walking. She pointed at one of the buildings. "That's my place," she told Jane.  
"Looks more like a warehouse of about a hundred of years ago," the man thought. "So, I guess this is time for goodnight," he said.  
Maria seemed upset. "Why?"  
"I... I guess... we're at your place..."  
"Ok, if you want to."  
Silence.  
"So... when I'm going to see you again?" Jane said with a tone of hesitation. Or just nervosity.  
"It's up to you. Could be next week, could be next month, could be never, could be in two minutes. It's completely up to you," she whispered and winked.  
He smiled. "I'll take the last one."  
"Good, I go upstairs to tide my mess up for a couple of minutes, and I'll tell you when to come, sure?"  
"Fair enough."  
Weirdly enough, his wedding ring was pretty uncomfortable that night.

She rushed through the streets, completely ignoring the presence of the cars.  
Only one thing was in her mind.  
Only one fucking thing.  
_Run._

"Patrick!" he heard a voice yelling. "Come upstairs, I've been waiting for you."  
As if he was hypnotized, we entered the warehouse-like house. He crossed the hall, a deserted hotel-like hall. As he ascended the first steps, he heard the door closing behind him, making a weird sound.  
He reached the thrid floor, where Maria had told him she lived, and he heard music; soft, erotic music. The appartment's door was open. He stepped in, and he got a smell of lavender. Like her hair. He now realized why; Lavender is an aphordisiac. Raises sexual attraction.  
"Maria? Where are you?" he questionned.  
"In the bedroom!" she giggled.  
"Oh, I could have never imagined," he thought sarcastically.  
He left his coat on a coach, and traversed the aisle that separated the living room from the bedroom. The lavender smell was getting stronger; so did his heartbeating. Was he... in love? Or it was something else?  
Jane entered the bedroom. Maria was laying in the bed, just with her underwear; red bra, panties and garters, with lace.  
"Come here, naughty boy," she giggled sweetly, once more. He laid next to her. She untied his vest, he fondled her kindly. Maria passionately unbuckled his shirt's buttons, and he took off her bra slowly...

She took a quick look at the neighborhood. _Was this the right address?_ She checked her notes._ Yes, it definitely was._  
She tried to open the door. _Dammit_, she whispered to herself angrily. It wouldn't open. It was locked. She gazed up at the windows. The third floor had lights on.

_I might have some more time_, she thought.  
She spotted a stairway in the wall, which reached the fifth floor. Perfect.

Jane kissed her lips tenderly... the smell of lavender went through their whole bodies. His heart beating was at its zenith.  
Maria was hugging him with only one of her arms. The other one was in her left garter.  
And suddenly, Jane understood.

The weather was windy. She had reached the second floor. Her coat was an obstacle.  
She threw it down.  
_I have to reach the third floor._

"So, I guess you totally fooled me Maria."  
She smiled.  
"Or this isn't your real name?"  
She smiled more. "It's true what they say," she said. "That you're _extremely smart_. but you know, even smart people can't resist a woman, willing to be given to them. Especially after such a long time of abstention."  
It was his turn to smile. She pointed her gun at his face.  
"So, I guess you killed_ both_ Fernanda's husband_ and_ lover."  
"Of course I did."  
"I don't ask why," he said. "I know."  
"Of course you do." She touched his neck with the gun.  
"They found out."  
"Of course they did."  
"Why didn't you use the signature?"  
"Because it's not _mine_," she answered. "It's _his_."  
Silence.  
"Are you ready to die, mister Jane?"  
"No problem. Just do it."  
A gun shot was heard.  
And then, darkness.

Police cars had compassed the whole place, as Lisbon helped Jane downstairs.  
"How did you find out?" he asked her.  
"I was eating some nachos, and then I got a mail," she said. "It was from him..._ Red John_."  
He looked down. "What did it say?"  
"It said that... that _an accomplice of his was preparing a friends' death bed_. I immediately thought of you."  
"Death bed... _Litterally_."  
They smiled, and got out of the deserted building.  
"I...I'm sorry," he whispered to his partner.  
"Why is that?"  
"For... you know... that girl..."  
"Shhh. Calm down, you did nothing. But _I_, I'm in big trouble."  
He was shocked. "Did... Does it have to do with Red John? Is he hunting you?"  
She laughed. "No, I just ate all of Rigsby's nachos."  
"You frightened me."  
She seemed skeptical.  
"What are you thinking about?" Jane asked her.  
"I was just wondering how would you feel if Red John _killed me_."  
"What?" he yelled. " Are you even wondering? I... I would be CRUSHED! How else could I feel when the woman I..."  
"What?" it was her time to ask.  
"Nothing..."  
"Let's just go back to the CBI."  
"Yes, that's a good idea."

They held hands and walked through the dark street.  
_You are the woman I love_, Jane thought.


End file.
